Fake smiles and Empty eyes
by Mai-Gikarp
Summary: When you love someone, you'll endure anything for them, right? At least, he thinks it's love. LudFeli/GerIta, abuse, rape, blood, etec. Rated M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

"Ve..." Feliciano practiced a fake smile into the mirror as he applied cover up to the fresh bruises on his neck and face. His lips quivered slightly and his eyes were still red.

The brunette frowned; his fingers shook. If Ludwig had seen any of that, he'd get angry. And getting Ludwig angry was the _last_ thing the Italian wanted to do. A shudder ran down his spine as he replayed the events from last night. The German looming above him, eyes blazing, hands clenched into powerful fists.

Feliciano cowering on the corner of the bed, trying not to faint, because God knows what would happen to him then. Flesh meeting flesh. Blood and tears mixing, falling everywhere, the brunette's cries of agony echoing through the empty house. The Italian shivered violently as the next part replayed in his mind. Ludwig pinning the bleeding man down, stripping him, more tears, more screaming. More pain. More blood. More memories that the brunette would never get rid of.

That did it, Feliciano once more broke down into tears. They fell in little bursts, heavy, short, heavy, short. The concealer began to run, and he gasped, trying desperately to stop his tears. He couldn't let the makeup run; Ludwig would see his mistake.

Taking deep breaths, Feliciano managed to calm down. He rubbed his eyes and applied more concealer, practicing the fake smile once more. He couldn't let other people know about this, no. Then he might end up dead for sure.

There, that looked about normal. Now, the Italian was ready to face everyone. If he didn't act happy, and like there was nothing going on between himself and Ludwig, then people would get suspicious, and that would lead to a singular, downward spiral.

Feliciano shook his thoughts away and got the rest of his things ready. He had work to do; places to be. With one last little fake smile, the Italian turned, ignoring the jelly-like feeling in his legs and halfheartedly bouncing out the bathroom and into the living room, and then to the outside world.


	2. The first sign of suspicion

Dust rose as Feliciano slowly walked down a random backcountry road in his hometown, staring down at his boots. It had been hard to act normal today. The fake smile stitched onto his face was beginning to tear, and he thought that a few people might be suspicious. Oh, how he hoped…no, prayed, that they weren't.

Out in the open, the Italian felt exposed. His knees began to shake again and he stopped, looking around for something to sit and recompose himself on. He spotted a low fence made of bricks, perfect. He shuffled over and scrambled onto the fence, gently kicking his feet over the edge after he was done making himself comfortable. Feliciano gripped onto the bricks and tilted his head upwards, staring into the cloudy afternoon sky. His mind was racing and he felt a shuddery, exhausted sigh push past his lips. Maybe—

Footsteps. Feliciano tensed. _Oh please God, don't let it be Ludwig…_ he thought, eyes widening. "Damnit!" an annoyed scoff to go along with said footsteps. The Italian relaxed, he knew that voice all too well. "Ne, Fratello~?" the smallest of smiles was on the brunette's face. He was shocked at how weak and frail his voice sounded, he hoped that Lovino wouldn't notice. The footsteps stopped. "Feli, that you? Damnit, where the hell are you?" _Grumpy as usual._ Feliciano giggled softly. "Fratello, I'm over here~"

"Where the fuck is over here? Damnit, Feliciano!"

"To your right, Fratello." The footsteps started again and Lovino came into Feliciano's line of sight. "Fratello~~!" a strained smile, an enthusiastic wave. "Oh, there you are." The younger brother continued to kick his feet on the wall as the older one approached. "What the hell are you doing all the way out here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and scrambling up the wall to sit next to his little brother.

"Thinking." The smaller Italian answered softly, keeping his gaze steady. Lovino rose an eyebrow.

"Okay Feli, I know you better than that, you _never_ think." He ruffled Feliciano's hair somewhat affectionately and the younger brother giggled softly. "What the hell are you _really_ doing out here?" a small look of concern appeared on the older brother's face. Feliciano felt a tremor of panic shoot through his body, making his stomach churn. "I just um…wanted to go outside is all." He murmured and Lovino blinked. "Oh. Well you could have said something."

"Sorry Fratello." The older brother shrugged and raised a hand to scratch his neck with. On instinct, Feliciano flinched and then cursed himself for it afterwards. Lovino noticed that action and frowned. "Feli, what was that for?"

Feliciano paled. "I ahh, I thought I saw a bug, sorry." He lied, glancing towards his brother and watching his eyes narrow in suspicion. Thankfully, Lovino didn't say anything about it. "Soooo how's the potato-bastard you insist on being with? He treating you alright?" Lovino yawned and Feliciano felt a lump rise to his throat. "O-Oh, Ludwig?" the shorter Italian tried to stop the tremor in his voice. "Y-Yeah, he is…" Feliciano once more stared down at his boots. Lovino's usual frown turned into one of suspicion. "…Really. Feliciano, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Lovino leaned in closer to his brother. "…What's on your neck?" he reached out and Feliciano panicked, scrambling down and backing away, going even paler.

"Nothing! T-There's nothing!" He took another step backwards as Lovino got down too. "F-Fratello, I ah…I need to go..." Feliciano took a deep breath, calming himself. "It's getting late and um…I think I left the microwave on." And with that, the smaller Italian did what he did best, turned and fled. Lovino blinked, processing what his brother had said. "The micro—DAMNIT FELICIANO! YOU IDIOT!" he shouted after Feliciano's retreating figure.

The Italian ran, scared beyond all good measure. That was close, too close. He knew Lovino would be suspicious now. As soon as he felt he was far away enough, the brunette stopped and leaned against a tree, breathing heavily. "Please, Fratello…" he murmured, tears threatening to fall once more. "Please, please don't t-talk to Ludwig…" A single dry sob pushed past his lips, followed by more and more. His shaking hands gripped his arms and he took deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down.

Soon enough, the brunette stood again and looked at the darkening sky. It _was_ getting late. He'd have to be home soon, because he knew Ludwig would be there. No matter how much he didn't want to go back, he knew it had to be done. So, Feliciano walked, clearing his mind. If he acted normal, the German would have no reason to suspect him, right? All he had to do was act natural.

_Here I go…_

He opened the door and forced a smile onto his face, walking right back into the room he had feared so much. Back into his own personal hell.


	3. Rape

A week passed after the meeting with Lovino. So far, Ludwig hadn't noticed anything, much to Feliciano's relief.

Thursday night, Feliciano was making pasta as he usually did when the German came home. On instinct the Italian jumped when the door shut, calming himself with great difficulty afterward. "Italia." His usual strict, cold voice.

"Y-Yeah, Ludwig?" the Italian swallowed as he heard Ludwig's heavy footsteps stop in the doorway.

He tried to keep his attention on the pasta, too terrified to turn and face the other. "Your brother and I had an...interesting conversation, Feliciano." The German man's annoyance was clear in the tone of his voice.

A fake laugh fell from the brunette's lips; it sounded stiff and unnatural. "Y-You di-did, Ludwig?"

"He told me you were acting suspiciously." Venom had replaced the annoyance, and the brunette began to shake. "Didn't we go over this, Italia?" the blonde whispered into the brunette's ear, sending shivers down his spine.

"Y-Yes..." he squeaked as Ludwig grabbed his arm and turned him around, blue eyes burning into brown ones. Ludwig watched as Feliciano's expression became more panicked, an odd sense of satisfaction welling up in the pit of his stomach.

"Can't you do anything right, Feliciano?" he growled and began to pull the man away from the boiling noodles, towards the living room.

"L-L-L-Ludwig, d-don't-my p-pasta, please-!" Feliciano begged and struggled against his iron grasp, no to avail.

"To hell with your pasta!" Ludwig snapped and hit the smaller man squarely across the face. Feliciano gasped and felt tears fly to the corners of his eyes, cheek stinging. "L-Lu-"

"Hush. I don't want to hear your voice unless I instruct you to speak." Ludwig glared down at Feliciano, expression cold. The Italian's lips shut together. "Is that understood?" A nervous nod for an answer. "Good." With that, the German once more began with the process of dragging the frightened man towards the living room. Feliciano whimpered softly, and the taller paused for a moment. "On second thought..." He turned, and instead began to drag the Italian towards his bedroom.

Once more Feliciano's chocolate eyes widened in fear. He couldn't stay silent any longer. "No no no please L-Ludwig, please, please, bitte-!" a few choked sobs pushed past Feliciano's lips, internally angry with himself for speaking German, _his_ language. A feral, dominant, animalistic expression took over Ludwig's face and he gripped the other man by the back of the neck, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. Feliciano squeaked in pain and tried his best to get away, with no luck.

"After all this, you think you can get away from me." the German laughed, grabbing one of the Italian's arms and twisting it behind him, forcing him to walk forwards. "It's amusing." Feliciano shook with pain and anxiety, feeling warm tears cascade down his face. "Get on the bed; strip." Ludwig commanded, pushing him ahead and shutting the bedroom door, turning to lock it behind him.

Feliciano had no choice but to listen to Ludwig, climbing onto the bed and slowly unbuttoning his jacket with trembling fingers. Ludwig's smirk came back as he turned around to watch. "Turnaround, Feliciano." The Italian swallowed a sob and did as he was told, looking down and slipping the jacket off of his thin shoulders. Then the undershirt, then the boots, then the pants, then the boxers. The brunette sat back on the bed, face-flushed red in embarrassment and shaking in fear.

He felt so...exposed, dirty. "Damn, Italia." Ludwig looked him over, every inch of the pale caramel flesh, the angry red welts along his legs and neck, the long crimson threads of dried-blood scars along his arms. His eyes traveled upwards to Feliciano's face, his long lashes and his soft brown hair, gentle red puffs under his eyes where he'd been crying and a bruise or two shining through the concealer on his cheeks.

Even with all the abuse the other had been dealt, he was still beautiful. It stirred strange emotions in the blonde man, and he took a step forwards. Feliciano looked up and Ludwig found that he liked the look in his eyes, the fear and the hate, the anger and the submission. His own emotions began to spin in his subconscious, rage, lust, and passionate intensity welling in his icy blue orbs. Feliciano began to shake with the volume of the glare and he shrunk back against the left corner of the bed. Ludwig leaned onto the bed and smirked when he heard it groan, watching the shudder he'd elicited out of the Italian.

As soon as the German was sure that the Italian wasn't looking, he grabbed his legs and pushed them apart, squeezing hard. Feliciano cried out and yelped, more tears springing to his eyes, the man squirming on instinct. Ludwig watched as his little hands grasped onto the bedsheets, as he twisted right and left to get away, as his blush began to spread from one of his cheeks to the other.

Ludwig didn't know how he did it, but Feliciano had the ability to turn him on. He dug his nails into the flesh and chuckled softly as the brunette squealed. His eyes traveled from the man's facial expression to his entrance, and by god did he look tempting. Keeping one hand on his thigh, Ludwig placed his other knee onto the bed and pushed a finger in, causing a gasp from the Italian and a dry sob. The blonde on the other hand, let out a groan of want, and his lips curled up into a sneer. Feliciano was so unbelievably _tight. _He pushed in a little harder before pulling the finger out, squeezing his thigh again and making sure to leave a bruise there as well. Feliciano jerked upwards and Ludwig smirked, undoing his belt and slipping out of his pants with ease.

"Bitte bitte, nein!" Feliciano choked out, barely remembering how to word the pleas. Ludwig laughed; a rough and bitter sound.

"Hearing my language from your lips almost makes me feel remorse." He took Feliciano's other leg and propped them both around his waist, grabbing his wrists and squeezing them hard to keep the Italian from moving. Staring straight into the smaller man's eyes, Ludwig pushed himself straight in. Feliciano gasped and screamed shrilly, arching up and sobbing heavily. Ludwig shivered in delight and began to push in and out of him, his thrusts rough, his pattern uneven. Feliciano could only twist and cry out as he felt the German inside him. He felt so sick, as though he was being destroyed from the inside-out.

His body jolted as Ludwig hit a spot that actually felt good, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He had to concentrate on why he HATED Ludwig. The bitemarks, the bruises, the rape, the beatings, the emotional abuse. With every hard thrust, Feliciano started and reminded himself that this was why he hated Ludwig. This was the reason he wasn't allowed to have a conversation with his brother anymore. This was the reason his smile was permanently frozen.

Ludwig was the reason his paranoia had gotten out of hand. Ludwig, Ludwig, _LUDWIG._ In the end it boiled back to the German. His legs shuddered and he felt a little bit of blood roll down the back of his thighs. Feliciano couldn't take it anymore and he went limp, silent tears trickling down his cheeks and the corners of his eyes. He'd finally given up, given in. He just had to wait, it would all be over soon. The minutes that passed felt like hours.

Wincing, he felt Ludwig speed up and harden. Thank God, that meant the German was almost done. Sure enough, with a few more thrusts, he felt Ludwig release. The Italian gasped and his tears stopped as Ludwig pulled out of him. The brunette lay against the pillows, shaking from fatigue and anger, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Ludwig sat back up and pulled his pants back on, looking the other man up and down. New bruises on his neck, legs and wrists, not bad. "Italia." Feliciano looked up at him through weary eyes. "L-Ludwig?" He murmured.

"Go shower." That earned the blonde a frown.

"Bu-but I can't wa-walk Ludwig." He whimpered and the German rolled his eyes, leaning over and forcing him to sit up. Feliciano yelped and teared up again, squirming at the bigger man's touches.

"I don't give a damn, go shower." he stood the brunette up and pushed him, watching as he stumbled towards the door, then out into the hallway. Ludwig sat back against the bed in the meanwhile, wondering what to do with the other male.

He had caused suspicion, so he wasn't going to be allowed outdoors for a while, that was for sure. With a grin, he looked at the bedside table. Ludwig knew exactly what to do. He was going to make Feliciano pay for what he'd done, and he was going to end up broken at the blonde's feet and begging him for more. Oh, Ludwig simply couldn't wait. This was going to be fun, at least on his half.


End file.
